The Science Fiction anthology. Andre Norton
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She smiled sickly and nodded her head. “I love to travel!” she said.
It didn’t sound at all witty even to herself.
VI
The transfer shed was a vast and somber terminal, cold and impersonal. There was a cleared space at the center of the floor where the officials had desks and tables and rows of filing cabinets and busily clicking machinery. The women sat huddled around the edges of the shed, waiting to be called to the center and assigned to any of the various colony planets.
Phyllis clutched her small suitcase, containing the few personal items she had been allowed to take on the trip, and silently swore that once she set foot on another planet, she’d never leave it, no matter what.
“Draft 49 for the Huffer Solar System report to the routing desk! Draft 49 for the Huffer Solar System report to the routing desk!”
“That’s us,” Suzanne said drily. She and Phyllis and Ruby joined the others out on the floor.
“You understand,” the routing official was saying, “that you’re allowed your choice of planets in the Huffer Solar System. We’ll read off occupational and other pertinent information and then you make your choice.
“Sunside: First planet from the system sun. Warm, humid climate. Fishing, flower-growing for export, mining, and natural handicrafts. Population ratio 7 to 1, males all somatypes and admixtures.
“Midplanet: Second planet out. Temperate climate. Farming, fur-trapping, slight manufacturing. Ratio 7 to 1, all somatypes and admixtures.”
“Newman’s body, last planet out from the system sun....”
He finished the list and gave them five minutes to decide. The names of the three planets appeared on the floor in glowing letters. When they had made up their minds, they were to go and stand on the name.
They held a short conference.
“It looks like it’s a tossup between fish and furs,” Ruby said. “I think I’ll take Midplanet. I like furs better than fish.”
They argued a moment longer, then picked up their belongings and went and stood on the luminous letters.
VII
No doubt of it, the carpet made a fairly suitable green, Escher thought. He placed the ball firmly on the nap, stepped back a pace, and tapped it smartly with the golf club. It rolled in a beautifully straight path into the upturned water glass.
“Very nice shot, Claude.”
Escher looked up and leaned the club against the side of the desk.
“I thought so, too,” he agreed. “What brings you here, Mac?”
MacDonald sat down and poured himself a glass of water from the beaker on Escher’s desk.
“Just wanted to pass on the compliments of the Board for the recent large upswing in woman emigrants to the colony planets.”
Escher casually waved it aside.
“It wasn’t much. We just had to rid ourselves of some old-fashioned notions, that’s all. I was afraid, though, that the Board might disapprove of our methods.”
MacDonald thought for a moment.
“No, I guess they didn’t. I can’t recall any members of the Board complaining about it, at least. Apparently they felt that something drastic was needed. Or, more probably, they’ve kept themselves carefully ignorant of just how we did it. Oh, they know we violated privacy in a lot of cases, but they’re willing to overlook it.”
“Very white of them, I’m sure,” Escher grunted. He took up the club and set the ball back on its carpet tee. “How about a game tomorrow afternoon?”
MacDonald shook his head. “It didn’t bother the Board much, Claude, but I followed your advertising and I was down to the port to see a contingent of our new colonists take off. It bothers me, Claude. The ads you sent to the different planets, the whispering campaign we arranged for, the subtle propaganda we sent out—and then the women. Don’t you think there will be some sort of howl? We’ve definitely led them to believe one thing and here we’re sending them—well, the new colonists leave a lot to be desired.”
Escher looked at him coldly. “Look, Mac, let’s be cynical about this. That’s why it was referred to us in the first place. Of course the girls we sent aren’t the most beautiful or the most glamorous. Those girls are already married and you couldn’t get them to leave, no matter what you did. The girls we sent are the ones who weren’t wanted here on Earth. We even killed two birds with one stone and solved the crime problem.”
He held up his hand when MacDonald started to object.
“Don’t say it, Mac. Stop and think for a moment. What danger can a shoplifter do on a colony planet? There’s nothing to steal. And without large cities, most other types of crime will have equally tough sledding. Besides, we eliminated those who had natural criminal tendencies. Most of the others had drifted into it as an outlet for their sense of insecurity, the feeling of not being wanted.”
MacDonald looked worried.
“All right, what happens when the colonists find out, Claude? What happens when they find out we shipped them the castoffs, the leftovers?”
“The point is, Mac, they’ll never find out. They’re Second System colonists. You know how the Colonization Board works. Planet A colonizes planet B. Planet B colonizes planet C. Given a suitable number of generations, the people on planet C will never have seen people from planet A. Earth is planet A. The colony planets to which the women were sent are all planet Cs.
“You see, the catch is that the colonists will have no basis on which to make comparisons. They’ve never seen women from Earth!”
“I still don’t like it. They have seen women from other planets. After taking a look at the last shipload of females that left Earth, I’m still worried.”
Escher laughed. “That’s because you haven’t seen some of the colony women, Mac. Tell me, what is the most cultured and socially up-to-date planet? Earth, of course. Now on what planet has husband-hunting and pleasing been developed into an all-out struggle with fine scientific techniques? Earth, again. The colonists don’t have a chance.
“When it comes to catching and pleasing the male, the girls from Earth have really had an education. They can take care of themselves. Don’t worry about that. Who’s to tell the colonists the girls aren’t the cream of the crop, anyway? Not the girls themselves, certainly. And not us. I tell you they’ll never find out, Mac.”
“You’re positive that the colonists will be pleased with the women?”
Escher hesitated. “Well, reasonably.” He sounded a little wistful. He practiced his swing a few more times, barely missing the lamp on his desk.
“I thought the advertising was rather clever, too. They’ll feel a great obligation to us for sending them ‘Earth’s Fairest Daughters.’